


Happy Fucking Birthday

by ohleahmarie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Fluff, Happy 4th, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Slice of Life, Steve Rogers Feels, happy birthday steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohleahmarie/pseuds/ohleahmarie
Summary: “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Bucky whispers, lips ghosting the shell of his ear, then nipping at it.





	Happy Fucking Birthday

Steve wakes up to a soft press of lips against his cheek. 

He’s warm, so much warmer than his dreams, where ice clings to his skin, digs in deep and settles in his core, in the very marrow of his bones. But this isn’t that—this is steam curling from the surface of a mug and seeping into his hands. This is the sun clawing its way out from behind a leaden cloud, heavy and fat with rain. This is old embers under a sudden breeze, sparking hot, tendrils glowing and spidering out, burrowing cracks into new wood and bursting aflame. This is the way his skin pinks up under Bucky’s touch, blossoming from the tips of his lover’s fingers, a blaze erupting just behind his breastbone, singing in his veins, warming his soul. This is a goddamn supernova streaking across a black sky. This—this is home.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Bucky whispers, mouth ghosting the shell of his ear, then nipping at it.

Steve smiles, opening his eyes and pressing his hand to Bucky’s cheek, scratchy with stubble, before sinking it into his hair, winding his fingers in the soft strands and pulling him forward. He captures Bucky’s lips in his own, soft and slow, enjoying the way Bucky melts into him. He loves the sounds he can tear from Bucky’s mouth when he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, gentle. When he fists Bucky’s long hair in his palm and tugs his head back to trail kisses along his jawline and start sucking a bruise into his pulse point at his neck, Bucky moans, guttural and raw, and Steve will never, ever tire of hearing it.

Bucky shifts, climbing on top of Steve and straddling his waist, enthusiastic as he tugs his sleep-wrinkled shirt off. Steve’s heart hammers against his chest, drinking in the way Bucky’s bare skin looks in the soft morning light, sun glinting off his metal arm.

“Is this my present?” Steve asks, trailing both hands up Bucky’s sides reverently, just letting his fingers skate over his ribs, enjoying the way goosebumps erupt beneath his fingertips.

Bucky smirks, leaning down while tucking his hair behind his ears. “Didn’t have time to wrap it,” he jokes, pressing his lips to Steve’s again, opening him up and dipping his tongue into Steve’s mouth. Steve can already feel heat pooling low in his belly, his dick hard and pinned beneath Bucky’s hips.

“We haven’t wrapped anything in a long time, darlin’,” Steve points out, and Bucky huffs a laugh into his shoulder before biting it. Steve sucks in a breath between his teeth, hips jerking upward.

Bucky grins, shaking his head a little and clucking his tongue. “Be patient, Stevie,” he scolds. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Mmm, but I don’t want to wait to make you come,” Steve breathes, pressing his fingers into the waistband of Bucky’s boxer briefs.

Bucky nearly brains himself on the headboard trying to get his underwear down when there’s a heavy knock on the door. He curses under his breath, and Steve groans.

“Wake up, lovebirds!” Sam’s voice says. “Tony’s called an urgent meeting on the communal floor!”

Bucky narrows his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face and climbing off Steve. “This better be a code fucking red, Wilson, or I swear to God I’m gonna stab Stark in the jugular!”

“As much as I’d love to hear the many ways you can kill someone with a knife, I promised Tony I’d bring you two up right away,” Sam says through the door.

“Do we need to suit up?” Steve asks, pushing off the covers.

“Nah, just your civvies. See you up there in ten! And I _do_ mean ten, Barnes!” Sam says as his voice fades away.

Bucky’s still grumbling as they both pull on t-shirts and jeans, Steve opting for his Nikes and Bucky yanking on his black Chuck Taylors. They make their way to the elevator as Bucky pulls his hair back into a bun at the nape of his neck.

The sight still drives Steve crazy after all this time, the itch to run his hands through that dark hair so overwhelming that he rarely denies it. As it is, he’s barely had time to come down from their heated morning, and a smile tugs at his lips as he crowds Bucky against the elevator wall, hands working their way into Bucky’s hair.

“Steve,” Bucky warns, though he lets Steve cover his mouth with his own, and it’s so different from the languid kisses they’d shared earlier. This is artless and desperate, like they won’t have time for enough of this in the next few days with whatever mission they’re about to be sent on. 

Steve hums into Bucky’s mouth, pressing further in, tongues sliding together and Bucky moaning and wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck. He feels Bucky hardening against him again and wishes the elevator would move slower.

They break apart when the elevator dings open, both their lips wet and kiss-red, shifting to hide their erections in their jeans.

What follows is a thunderous sort of sound, lots of screams and pops, and they both flinch, Bucky dropping to one knee to pull out a knife from around his ankle and Steve moving at the same time to plant himself between Bucky and whatever the hell they’re about to face when they both register the source of the noise.

There are a lot of people gathered around the room. Clint is perched on the coffee table, red, white, and blue balloons that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAP” clutched in his hands. Natasha is seated on the couch behind a mountain of presents, all encased in various wrapping paper, from shiny silvers and blues to one crumpled-looking parcel with reindeer splashed across it. Tony is in the kitchen, hand paused in the motion of lighting what looks to be a hundred-and-one candles on a three-tiered cake (also red, white, and blue), some of the candles having burned so long that they’re actively dripping wax onto the top layer of fondant. Sam is doubled over laughing, clutching his sides, no doubt at Bucky and Steve’s reaction to the shouting. Thor and Bruce are side-by-side with red solo cups in their hands, Thor grinning merrily at them and Bruce looking like he desperately wants to slink out of the room and clean his glasses on his purple button-down. Scott is sitting cross-legged on the floor, probably grinning wider than anyone, looking disheveled but sporting a cartoonish replica of Steve’s shield on his crumpled t-shirt. Wanda is leaning against the kitchen counter, smirking and fiddling with her long hair.

“You tricked us,” Bucky says, standing from his crouched position and pointing an accusatory finger at Sam as both he and Steve exit the elevator. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”

“Well, we wanted it to be a _surprise_ , Buckaroo,” Tony says, coming out from behind the counter with the cake swaying on the platter in his hands. “And we know all Cap has to do is bat his long eyelashes at you and you’ll cave like always.”

Bucky gives him the finger, at which Tony just grins.

“You guys didn’t have to do this,” Steve says, scratching the back of his neck. He’s not used to being the center of attention. He usually leaves that task to Tony.

“We wanted to do something for our fearless leader,” Natasha says, standing, making her way over to Steve, and planting a kiss on his cheek. Bucky rolls his eyes at her, though there’s no real fire behind it.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s no tactical moves to make, man. Just blow out your candles and open your presents,” Sam says.

“And then we shall partake in drink! I have brought some Asgardian mead. It was aged for a thousand years in the barrels built from the wreck of Grunhill’s fleet! Though it’s not meant for mortal men,” Thor says, lifting his cup and shooting an apologetic glance in Tony’s direction.

“Whaddya say, Stevie?” Bucky whispers low in Steve’s ear. “Wanna pretend to get drunk and let me give you a blowjob in the bathroom?”

Steve smiles as they all begin to sing Happy Birthday, Tony barking at FRIDAY to dim the lights. It ends up being the best birthday he’s ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short, sweet fic I had to write because it's Steve's birthday and this is what I envision them doing today.
> 
> Happy 4th, to America and its ass!
> 
> Comments and kudos always enthusiastically received. Thanks for reading!


End file.
